


No Place That Far

by howellesterfics



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Phan Smut, Phone Sex, phil's family is vaguely there, sorry kath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howellesterfics/pseuds/howellesterfics
Summary: Phil is away at his family’s house, and his old bedroom makes him reminisce on old times. A phone call with Dan is all he needs to allow those nostalgic thoughts to bloom into new antics, including some sneaky, tipsy phone sex.





	No Place That Far

dan: tell kath i will sorely miss being drowned in various cakes please 

dan: also if you don’t bring home some sort of sweets im disowning you 

Phil’s eyes skim briefly over the messages illuminating his screen, the sight of the all too familiar name making his chest warm. Being away from Dan, miles and miles away in fact, can only be soothed by the constant number of texts and (not so subtle) tweets directed his way. Currently he’s cross legged on his family’s lounge floor with a big mug of hot chocolate between his legs and a deck of cards in front of him. 

It’s a typical Lester game night. Of course he’s happy to be here, but it’s hard to concentrate on flimsy cards and board game pieces when a member of the family isn’t sat right up against his side, trying his best to cheat at various games. It’s not as though they need to cheat, however, not with the strange mind meld that’s happened between them over the years. Dan could probably help him win at charades without being present in the room; it’s that strong. 

dan: hey your read receipts are on bittcchh don’t make me tweet something dramatic about being abandoned 

A snort of laughter leaves Phil’s airways at that and he unlocks his phone, trying to be discreet about his less than perfect playing strategy. It’s not as if his family doesn’t understand, though. They know that Dan and him are inseparable and vaguely codependent to a certain extent. When Dan needs him, he’s going to drop whatever he’s doing and pay attention to his boy. 

phil: hey! good old kath is already in bed for the night, but i’ll make sure to load down my suitcase with every sweet imaginable 

phil: they might arrive slightly smushed 

Not to Phil’s surprise, the three grey bubbles pop up on the other side of the screen as soon as his messages are delivered. He wants to smirk at how he seems to have Dan’s full, undivided attention, but it’s also a bit concerning. Dan should be playing video games or dancing in his underwear or whatever it is people do when they have a house to themselves, not anxiously waiting by a cell phone in hopes of receiving a text back. He wants to tell Dan as much, but his phone is snatched out of his hands before he can blink. 

“C'mon, Phil, it’s your go. I’ll keep Dan occupied while you take a turn, he’ll be fine.” Martyn places the dice in Phil’s open palm and laughs as he has to force his brother’s hand to close around them. 

Phil frowns and reaches for his phone, worried that Martyn might see a text from Dan that’s borderline inappropriate. He leans across the table but to no avail, as Martyn clicks the screen off and puts the phone behind his back. 

“You’re terrible,” Phil grumbles, rolling the dice halfheartedly. 

It lands on a two and a one, which basically makes him fall behind every other player. He rolls over onto his side on the floor and dramatically places a hand over his heart, staring off at nothing in particular. 

“You’ve already defeated me. Please have mercy and let me forfeit.” A bout of laughter is heard from his family and he blearily sits up again, blinking slowly. “Really, though, I am so sleepy. I better call it a night." 

Phil meets Cornelia’s eyes and tries to plead with her silently, hoping she would come to his rescue. Thankfully she gets his message and winks back at him. Phil isn’t sure what her plan is until she leans over and gives Martyn a kiss, keeping him distracted just long enough to snatch the phone from behind his back. He doesn’t even protest when Cornelia kindly hands it back over to Phil, looking far too dazed and pleased with himself to care otherwise. 

"Thanks." 

"Goodnight Phil, tell Dan we say hello." 

"I will. Night Corn, night traitor,” Phil shoots Martyn a playful glare before he exits the room, taking the stairs two at a time. 

After brushing his teeth and shimmying out of his sweatpants he slides beneath the covers of his old bed and sighs softly. Nothing would ever beat the feeling of cold sheets on a warm night, especially on his bare legs. It’s basically heaven. He figures that not much could beat the nostalgia that comes from this room, either. The walls and posters and duvet all hold so many stories and memories that he couldn’t name them all in the span of one night. 

He rolls onto his stomach, face smushed against the pillow and eyes falling shut without permission. And then his phone dings, and he feels like the worst boyfriend ever. Dan must be getting impatient, surely. Phil groggily reaches towards his phone and checks his notifications. Five messages from Dan in the span of the last ten minutes. 

dan: a smushed cake is better than no cake 

dan: besides if it’s smushed you can just let me eat it off of your body 

dan: get it? like the jaffa cakes? 

dan: except jaffa cakes are gross and that made everything 100% not sexy :-/ 

dan: i scared you off with kinks again didn’t i 

Phil can feel his face redden in the darkened room, even his ears feel as though they’re radiating heat. It’s not the texts themselves that have him flustered, but the niggling idea that his brother or Cornelia might’ve seen the incredibly incriminating messages he’s received. He doesn’t need his family to read things like that. Despite the embarrassment, the texts do correspond with his oddly nostalgic mood, and suddenly he wishes he could travel back in time and experience things with Dan all over again. The very bed he’s laying on holds so many memories in every little stitch that it’s as if he can feel them buzzing beneath his body. Or maybe that buzzing is due to the impure thoughts bouncing around in his sleep-addled brain. 

phil: the sushi and the breakfast bar was much hotter 

He can’t help but to grin at his reply, pressing his lips together tightly. He knows that Dan has particularly fond memories of their old apartment and it’s poor, poor breakfast bar. They actually vowed to never eat from it again after one incident involving Dan bent over the top of it, rubbing himself desperately against the smooth surface. That was… not to be spoken of anymore, but the thought of it made Phil groan in frustration, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

dan: im deleting you from the universe 

dan: i had some wine earlier we need to not talk about sex or else i’ll get inappropriately whorish 

phil: is that a bad thing? 

dan: … 

Phil repositions himself on the bed, growing more uncomfortable underneath the blanket that’s becoming warmer every minute. He gives up when his legs get tangled and caught up in a sheet and huffs as he pulls the string to turn his bedside lamp on. There’s no use in trying to sleep now. Dan seems to be wide awake and flirty after the effects of wine and the absence of his boyfriend. This could get interesting. 

phil: im laying in my old room and it’s hard not to think about everything that happened in here 

phil: remember that time with the belt after i posted that picture on dailybooth 

phil: you couldn’t just comment things like that and expect me to ignore it the next time i saw you 

dan: i was joking about you tying me up!!! i didn’t think you were so kinky back then!! 

phil: did u regret it? 

dan: your parents probably regretted allowing me to visit. kath didn’t need to know those things 

phil: pls don’t talk about my mother when I’m thinking about fuckingnuou 

phil: fucking you* 

Okay, so. Maybe all of this reminiscing isn’t such a good idea when Phil has to get up early tomorrow and go out with his family to breakfast, but he can’t help himself. He misses Dan more than he had realized and he’ll take a tipsy, sexual conversation over another half hour of sleep. The yellow light from his lamp casts an odd glow over the room and it feels weirdly like a sci-fi movie right before a UFO is suddenly hovering outside of the protagonist’s bedroom. Phil pulls his duvet farther up his chest and glances out of his window, sighing when he only sees a looming tree branch and utter darkness. His phone dings obnoxiously. 

dan: are you ever… not thinking of fucking me? 

dan: also, don’t make me wash your mouth out. geez 

phil: a bit full of yourself howell 

dan: sorry. im just salty because you’re miles away and not pounding me into the bed :-(( 

Jesus. This boy is yet to be the end of him. 

phil: call me (if you promise never to say salty again) 

One, two, three. Just like that the phone is ringing and Phil is shaking as his finger slides over the answer button. He picks at a loose thread on his blanket while the two of them are connected through their phones. For a moment Phil regrets suggesting a call since Martyn and Cornelia are staying right down the hall, but he supposes he won’t speak loud enough for them to hear. They might still be downstairs, even. And it’s not as if they don’t know about him and Dan… 

“Hey. There’s a TV on the do– I mean, uh, a dog on the TV. I think it’s a dog show,” Dan slurs his words slightly. 

There’s a lilt in his voice that suggests he’s both sleepy and quite actually drunk, and a small smile tugs at Phil’s lips. 

“It’s really cute, but I think I’m gonna turn off the telly so you can tell me dirty stuff." 

"You know, Dan, I recall a time when you wouldn’t dream of just demanding that I take care of your needs. You used to be so… docile,” Phil mumbles. 

He closes his eyes and imagines such a time, for instance around 2010 when he edged Dan for the first time. Just the thought made him shiver, the shockwaves pulsing all the way down to his toes. He had the boy going insane, tear tracks down his cheeks and his chest stained with a dark red blush. His warm breath would puff out towards Phil’s face as he shakily exhaled, fighting so hard to stay composed. He hears Dan laugh on the other side of the call. 

“So you liked it when I was your bitch?" 

"Yeah, actually." 

Faintly, two sets of footsteps hit the carpeted floor outside of his bedroom. Phil holds his breath and strains his ears until he knows for sure that his brother and Cornelia are in their own room, preparing for bed. He needs to remember to be quiet. His head buzzes with the need to sleep but his body buzzes with sparks of attraction, heat pooled at his groin. 

"What did you like about it, Phil? Having me on my knees, fucking my face? Or the time you spat in my mouth like a fucking weirdo?" 

"Hey, that was one time. And to be fair you deserved it,” Phil says defensively. 

God, are his cheeks absolutely scalding hot. 

“What I liked was having you helpless. You would gasp and squirm like a bitch in heat but you wouldn’t ask me to stop. You took it like you lived for it." 

Dan exhales loudly into the phone and it feels so close, like if he imagined hard enough the breath would blow gently against his ear. The next thing Phil hears is a quiet moan, and then a series of quick whimpers. The picture it paints in his mind is a masterpiece. 

"Touching yourself?" 

"Yeah, you?" 

Phil swallows roughly as he starts to rub himself through his underwear, his legs spreading almost involuntarily. 

"Yeah, yes. God, Dan. Wish you could’ve come with me. Miss you." 

Dan laughs through his other less innocent noises, swallowing loud enough for Phil to hear.

"Prob'ly better this way. You know I’m not quiet. An’ we haven’t had phone sex in ages." 

The last time, in fact, was really more than a year ago. Truthfully the two of them aren’t often separated long enough to warrant this behavior, and they can get through it with a couple of naughty pictures and constant texting. The stars must be perfectly aligned for this to have happened, Phil believes. He wants to communicate as much to his boyfriend, but now his hand is slipping beneath his briefs and he can’t speak, can’t think. His breath catches as he squeezes gently at the base of his shaft. His toes curl inward when he gives himself a few slow strokes. Phil doesn’t even need a filthy narrative from Dan to get him going, the thought of Dan getting off at the same time as him is exciting enough. The pleasured moans and gasps on the other end of the line are icing on the cake, giving him all the information necessary to paint a mental image. 

"Not gonna last long, you know what red wine does to me.” Dan moans out particularly loudly then, and Phil is mildly worried that it could be heard throughout the house even without the phone on speaker. 

He holds the phone away from his ear, chewing on his lower lip indecisively before he speaks into the receiver gruffly. 

“Not yet, Dan. You’re going to wait." 

”‘Til when?“ 

"Until I say. Understand?" 

"Yeah, whatever, fuck." 

Phil slows the rhythm of his hand, now slightly slick, and runs the tips of his fingers over his balls. Even though Dan has gotten more cocky and confident over the years, especially in the bedroom, Phil knows how to break him down. He knows that Dan still craves to let go and follow direction. He wants to have fun with this while it’s happening, so he speaks lowly into the receiver while one finger accidentally ghosts over his perineum, making him shudder. 

"If you’re not already, I want you to finger yourself open. Okay?" 

Dan’s responding grunt is undeniably sexy, despite the desperate quality to it. 

"Way ahead of you." 

"Yeah? You must not be hitting your spot, then. I know that sound when I hear it." 

"Can I?” Dan’s voice breaks at this point, and then he inhales sharply once the words leave his mouth. 

Phil’s hand holding his phone shakes and jostles around as the pleasure spikes and his body convulses upwards, making it difficult to concentrate on replying. He’s getting so close, wishing and picturing that it was his own fingers working Dan open, stretching him and prepping him for something more. Maybe he’d grab Phil’s wrist, needy as he tried to push the fingers in deeper, needing more stimulation. Maybe his eyes would roll back the moment his prostate was brushed against, maybe his thighs would tense and he’d gasp as he accidentally came overtop his stomach. 

Phil moans lowly against the cool screen of the phone as his imagination drifts. The thing that snaps him out of it is a frustrated cry from the other side. 

“Phil, please! Can I, please? I need to, unnn–" 

"Yeah, babe, you can touch yourself there. Still, no coming until I say,” Phil manages to get out. His head is reeling. 

The next thing he hears is a series of quiet “ah,ah,ah’s” that gradually increase in pitch. Phil rolls his hips up to meet his hand, before bringing his palm up to quickly spit into it to aid the slickness of his strokes. That’s what really does it, and he whimpers involuntarily, probably too loud, and oh God, Martyn and Cornelia better be asleep by now. His heart beats loudly within his chest, pounding in his ears and his throat. His pulse seems to be as strong as a heavy drum, but he can’t stop now. 

“God, Dan, you’re so pretty, make such pretty sounds. Let me hear you, baby. Let go, cum for me,” he pleads quietly. 

He listens dazedly as Dan finishes himself off, his noises of pleasure coming out choked up and blissed out. It takes a minute before the aftershocks wear off, as Dan continues whining lowly after the peak of his orgasm. Phil wonders if the noises continue because he kept fingering himself after coming, as he likes to do despite the overstimulation. That mental image is what sets him off, and he shoves the side of his hand in his mouth as he comes, biting down harshly on the thick skin to muffle any stray sounds. 

Once both of them fall into a silent aftermath, he closes his eyes and basks in the sensations flooding his sated body, but then blushes as his ears tune in to the quiet. He can hear Martyn talking in the next room, clearly wide awake. He rolls over onto his stomach, chuckling sarcastically. 

“Dan, as much as I enjoyed that, I don’t think I can look my family in the eye tomorrow." 

"Just get on a train and come back to me, then." 

"Soon,” Phil whispers, smiling softly into his pillow. It made him feel warm, knowing someone was waiting for his return. 

“There’s only so many sad movies I can watch in your absence until it gets repetitive." 

"Stop it, then. Watch happy things. I want you to have a good time, even if I’m gone, babe. You need to learn to be nice company to yourself. I worry about you." 

There’s an odd silence on Dan’s end of the call, before the boy sniffs quietly and coughs a couple of time. Or maybe he’s clearing his throat, Phil can’t tell. 

"You’re the only company I want, Phillip Lester. Don’t make me feel like an asshole, you shouldn’t worry about me on holiday." 

A short hybrid of a laugh and a snort leaves Phil’s mouth, and he brings his knees up to his chest, making himself smaller in the too-big bed. There’s still a mess from earlier drying on his skin, but sleep is tugging at him, and the gravity pulling his head to the pillow is unstoppable. 

"I love you Dan." 

"Me too. See you soon?" 

"Soon.”


End file.
